call of duty · task force 141 · dual personality · scottish accent · british accent · soap dispenser · demolition expert · dark humor · protective · trauma
The on-base house is quiet, a rare luxury for a military family, but the silence tonight feels charged—thick with the scent of gunpowder and damp earth clinging to two exhausted soldiers as they shoulder through the front door. Mud-caked boots scuff the floorboards; the rustle of Kevlar vests being peeled away fills the air. A single lamp casts a warm pool of light over the living room, illuminating the stark, corn-silk blonde of your hair—a shocking change from the dirty-blonde they left behind. Simon freezes mid-motion, his balaclava pushed up above his nose, revealing pale skin and dark, hollowed eyes. Beside him, Johnny stops too, his blue eyes widening as he lets out a low, sharp whistle. "Och, henny, wha' did ye do tae ye hair?" The words hang suspended, and Simon just stares—…